


Sin & Virtue

by StrawberrieMars



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Demon/Human Relationships, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Suggestive Themes, Supernatural Elements, Tags Contain Spoilers, pansexual male character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrieMars/pseuds/StrawberrieMars
Summary: The small town of Lohaven, Nebraska is just barely big enough to be considered a town. It's a quiet place where everyone knows everyone else, and is a fairly cozy community of people. Only one main road goes straight through the town, and while it's not without its fair share of drama, it's one of those towns where "nothing really happens".Annabelle Ellison dreams of going on an adventure and seeing the incredible things the world has to offer. However, her job at the diner pays only just enough for an apartment and necessities, so she keeps a smaller, more private hope that she'll find someone who can at least provide adventures in the bedroom. She is otherwise relatively content, accepting that she'll probably spend the rest of her life in Lohaven.Carmine is new in town. He already has a reputation at the diner as being very handsome and leaving fantastic tips, albeit strangely immune to blisteringly hot coffee and often wearing very nice suits even on the balmier days of Autumn. Still, he and Annabelle hit things off very nicely when they meet.But there's something else about him that Annabelle can't quite put her finger on. Something... not quite human.





	1. The Diner

A few miles off of I-180 is the small town of Lohaven, Nebraska. A quiet place not quite in the middle of nowhere, the heart of Lohaven is a town with a few simple amenities: a single auditorium movie theater, a two-story library, a police station, a firehouse, a small hospital, and three restaurants -- Chinese food, a coney island, and a pub called the Black K-9. In the surrounding area are a few neighborhoods, an elementary, middle, and high school, and a small lake. Only one road goes straight in and straight out of the town. On this road, when travelling southbound, one can find Ellison’s -- a small, pleasant diner that is equidistant from the highway and the town. A favorite of many locals, the diner manages to stay afloat thanks to business from them, as well as the frequent roadtrippers, and occasionally the late-night truck driver.

Annabelle was hired as a waitress by the owner, her aunt Tina Ellison, at the age of seventeen. When she had been offered the job, her aunt and her parents had assured her it would be temporary, just to give her some job experience. However, nearly nine years later, Annabelle was still serving coffee to customers and stuffing her tips into her road trip fund jar. She shouldn’t have been so surprised -- college was too far to commute to and too expensive to live on campus of, and any other job worth having was in the city, which was expensive just to park in. On top of that most of those jobs required some kind of degree, which brought Annabelle back to square one whenever she thought she had a plan put together.

And so, she was effectively stuck at the family diner, squirrelling away her tips in hopes that at the very least she’d get to  _ see _ other places.

She supposed it wasn’t all bad. Though it wasn’t nearly enough to effectively escape Lohaven, the pay she earned at the diner was decent enough that she had a small apartment on the edge of the main town. She knew a lot of the locals since most of them had breakfast or coffee at the diner before rushing off to work, or would be part of the Sunday morning church crowd. Kids loved her -- she always snuck in a little chocolate syrup in their milk glasses, spent the occasional break coloring on their menus with them, and always asked them before she started singing “Happy Birthday” so she didn’t cause any embarrassment. She had several regulars who only came to the diner on the days she worked, because they knew she had an ear to lend for their rants, or an encouraging word when their confidence was getting low.

The one thing that she enjoyed the most about her job was the roadtrippers. She couldn’t get enough of hearing stories from people who had come all the way across the country. There were even a few regulars in that respect -- an elderly couple that came through twice a year, whom Annabelle had come to know so well that they sent Christmas cards to the diner. A truck driver with a prosthetic finger who loved to gab about his husband, and always showed Annabelle pictures of their many rescue dogs. One girl only came through every couple of months, but was practically a nomad, whose whole life was packed away in the back of her car and paid for with violin performances. 

Annabelle practically thrived off of listening to it all. Her aunt considered it a miracle she didn’t ask anyone to abscond with her. Annabelle would be lying if she hadn’t considered it.

* * *

 

“I’m gonna scream.”

Annabelle looked up from the daily crossword and came face-to-face with her coworker, Megan. With a sigh and roll of her eyes she looked back down at her puzzle. “What is it this time, Meg?”

Megan leaned forward over the counter, lowering her voice. “Check out the guy in booth seven.”

“Sure thing, after I figure out what the hell 10-down is. ‘Big library book’, come on, how arbitrary is that shit?”

Megan spun the crossword around and looked it over. “It’s ‘World Atlas’. Now look at booth seven.”

Annabelle looked up at Megan with an annoyed glare first, before following her directions. Sitting at the booth was a man with dark hair wearing an equally dark suit, who seemed to be writing. Nothing worth screaming over as far as Annabelle could tell. “What about him?”

Megan leaned even further forward, their noses nearly touching. “He’s been here for over an hour. I’ve poured him three cups of coffee already and he hasn’t ordered any food. If he didn’t have such a nice face and looked like he has a lot to tip with, I’d be more vocal about being weirded out.” She finally retreated back into her own personal space and stood upright, untying her apron. “Really quick I need you to check on him, because if he leaves right after me I’m gonna need you to call the cops.”

Annabelle snorted and raised an eyebrow. “For what? Driving under the influence of an ungodly amount of caffeine?”

Megan rolled her eyes, throwing her apron down on the counter. “No, the cops are for his protection because I’m gonna kick his ass for not leaving a tip while I was the one helping him out.” She let her hair down and added, “Besides, he’s drinking decaf.”

Annabelle cracked a grin and shook her head, putting away her crossword and standing upright. “All right, whatever. I’ll give you three-fourths the tip, yeah?”

“Thanks, babe.” Megan pat Annabelle on the cheek and headed for the back room. “I owe you one!”

Annabelle flipped her the bird below the waist, laughing. “Not your babe, babe!” With Megan gone, Annabelle picked up the house blend decaf coffee pot and made her way over to booth seven, muttering “World Atlas -- really?” under her breath.

Upon reaching the booth Annabelle realized what Megan meant by feeling somewhat weirded out by the customer. He didn’t seem to look up from his writing, even as Annabelle reached over and refilled his mug. “Is there anything you need, Sir?”

He didn’t look up as he shook his head, picking up his coffee the moment she stopped pouring. “Where did the redhead go?”

“Her shift’s all done, so you’re stuck with me now.”

The man’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “I suppose I am.” He took a sip of the coffee, his gaze flicking to hers for a moment before he said, “Thank you. I’m fine with just the coffee.”

She blinked a few times, her brow furrowing, before she gave a shrug. “All right. Just uh, lemme know if you change your mind.”

As she turned away Megan caught her eye, and the two shared a knowing glance: an odd customer for sure, but nothing to really fuss about. Annabelle gave another shrug, this one a bit more exaggerated than the last. Megan flipped her the bird in response before heading out the door.

Snickering, Annabelle returned to the dining counter and sighed. It was about to be a long, slow day at the diner, and the crossword was beckoning to her.


	2. The Shop

Annabelle wasn’t terribly fond of the term “guilty pleasure”. She felt that if you enjoyed something, why take any shame in that enjoyment?

Then again, she understood the sentiment when it came down to her favorite store. It was tucked away at the end of an alley, right between a record store and a comic book shop. The only indication of its existence was the sign over the door that simply read:

_Sinful Hideaway_

_Adult Books & Novelty _

With no windows to the street, the inside of the store was warmly lit, except for the florescent lighting at the checkout counter. An odd red light bulb amongst dim yellow ones were found in the black chandeliers around the remainder of the store, reflecting off the white marble while the occasional black, furry carpet seemed to suck the rest of the light in. Various fire motifs lined the walls and fixtures, while the mannequins and styling heads all had devil horns on them to complete the hellish theme.

Annabelle was thankful that the lighting in the store tended to hide the blush that seemed to be permanently plastered to her face every time she visited. While no stranger to the erotic parts of adult life, and though the store was fairly private, she never could shake the shyness when being surrounded by fake penises and a wide variety of lubricants. She spent a fair amount of time in the reading section, however the real reason she came to the store so often was its wide selection of BDSM tools.

She sort of found it ironic at times - she was a woman who dreamt of escaping her hometown, and yet also fantasized about being under restraint and dominated. Which was another reason why her shyness often followed her through the store. Her interest in submission wasn’t exactly something that she wanted just anyone to know about.

Plus, Annabelle didn’t really know how to go about asking anyone to indulge her.

* * *

 

Two days had passed since the “Copious Amounts of Coffee” incident, as Annabelle and Megan had been calling it. And that’s all it had been, a day-to-day strange occurrence in the life of a waitress. Nothing more and nothing less. Probably the only person whom Annabelle hadn’t had a small laugh about it with was Clara, who worked at Sinful Hideaway. What better reason to go there than to tell her other friend about it?

Well, that, and Annabelle was expecting a delivery and it was already a few days late.

She entered the shop with a bit more bravado than usual, heading straight for the counter. Clara lifted her head from the computer and smiled wide. “Well, well! If it isn’t Annie~!”

And the shyness returned with a vengeance. Annabelle tucked her chin down, rubbing the back of her head. “Hey, Clara. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m just fine,” she leaned over the counter, her tanned skin glowing in the warm lighting. “Maybe a little better since seeing you, cutie.”

Annabelle’s shoulders rose slightly, her chest fluttering at the thought of imagining hearts floating over Clara’s head. “Oh, stop it, you. You flatter me.”

Clara laughed, propping her elbows up and her chin in her hands. “What can I do for you today, Annie?”

She straightened up and moved closer to the counter, leaning in a bit. “I’m wondering about my order. Do you still have the tracking number?”

“It’s weird that it still hasn’t arrived yet...” Clara leaned away from the counter, turning to the computer. “I wonder if it just left the warehouse late, then. Sometimes it happens - you ordered a really popular item, you know,” she said with a wink.

Annabelle’s heart skipped a beat. As her friend tapped away at the computer to try and find her order, she couldn’t help but look at her for a moment. Clara had been exceedingly welcoming and sweet to her when Annabelle first came to Sinful Hideaway, telling her everything she knew from bullet vibrators to which books to read when exploring her kinks. Clara had been twenty at the time, and Annabelle just turned eighteen. Over the years, Annabelle had often caught herself staring at her friend - at her high cheekbones, how she always wore the bracelet Annabelle had given her for Christmas, her dark, springy curls pulled back into a poofy ponytail. But now, at twenty-eight and twenty-six respectively, Annabelle just tried to ignore the heartache every time she saw Clara’s engagement ring.

“Ah-ha!” Clara’s shout snapped Annabelle from her thoughts. “I knew it - it just left the warehouse.” Clara turned the computer towards her. “It shouldn’t be long now, a few days at the most.”

Annabelle’s eyes scanned the screen, though her mind was still elsewhere and thus was muddling the words together. She nodded and smiled, backing away. “Thanks. I guess I’ll be back sometime later this week to grab it.”

“Aw, that’s it?” Clara turned the computer back and leaned atop the counter once more, shaking her shoulders a little as she sing-songed, “We just got those white leather cuffs back in stock~.”

Annabelle smiled wider, allowing Clara to lead her through the shop.

* * *

 

Copious Amounts of Coffee was back soon after Annabelle started her shift at the diner that afternoon. However instead of dining in the booth, he had taken a seat at the counter and right away pulled out his notebook and began writing.

Annabelle stared for a moment, wholly surprised he had come back. Was their coffee really that good? Her aunt had to snap her out of it by handing her a menu. With deep breath she slowly approached, hoping, at the very least, that he’d leave as good a tip as he had last time.

“Hello, Sir. How can I help you today?”

He looked up from his writing, and flashed her a brilliant smile. “Coffee again today, please.”

Annabelle raised an eyebrow, and unable to stop herself, she asked, “Are you sure? It’s already four in the afternoon...”

He laughed, a deep sound that ever-so-slightly reverberated in her bones. “Yes, well, I surprisingly enjoy coffee for the taste sometimes, not just the caffeine.”

“Oh. Um.” Annabelle scratched the back of her head and set the menu down next to his notebook. “Decaf then?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Annabelle wrote the order at the bottom of her order pad before grabbing the pot from the warming plate, and a clean mug from under the counter top. As she poured his cup for him she glanced over her shoulder. “Cream and sugar?”

“Neither, please.”

_Who seriously drinks black coffee for the taste?_ Annabelle thought with a wry grin, turning around and setting the mug down in front of him. “Now it’s right off the heater so be very --”

He already had the cup to his mouth and was taking a full-on drink.

Annabelle’s jaw dropped and the coffee pot nearly followed.

He closed his eyes and let out a satisfied sigh as he set the cup down. “Delicious,” he said, opening his eyes and met hers with a grin. “Do you make this yourself?”

She blinked and shook her head, still not fully believing what she saw. “Are you alright?”

He tilted his head. “I’m sorry?”

She set the coffee pot down and leaned against the counter some. “I was about to tell you the coffee is really, _really_ hot. You’re not - you’re not in pain or anything after drinking it like that?”

He laughed, the action showing the tips of his canines. “Oh, no. I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”

Annabelle blinked a few times more before nodding. “O-okay. But uh, if you need anything just let me know.” She straightened up and tapped her nametag. “Ask for Annabelle if you don’t see me.”

He nodded in return, saying, “I will, thank you,” before taking another drink and focusing once more on his notebook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I've actually had this idea bouncing around in my head for a couple years, and I originally had about 12 chapters fully done before I realized I needed to start over, because there were a couple problems with one of the characters, and the way that the plot was going was completely out of left field from what I had in mind when starting (which originally this was just gonna be a fun erotic romp, but now has kind of gone in some interesting, more adventure romance kind of direction with kink splashed in).
> 
> So far I have about 8 chapters of this, and I hope to post one a week from here on. Hopefully I'll be able to stay ahead but this is something I am 100% in for the long run on, so even if there are hiatuses, I'd sooner let someone throw a brick at me than let this go unfinished.
> 
> I'll keep writing fanfiction along side this in the meantime though >u< reader-insert is fun as hell and a nice break from when this one is driving me nuts.
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe -- feedback is welcome and appreciated :3


	3. The Man

It had been surprising enough that Copious Amounts of Coffee had come back once. When he came to the diner at 6:30 the next morning, Annabelle was about ready to lose her mind. She was still reeling from the fact he had drank his coffee the moment she poured it -- on top of that he had done it with the two coffees that followed. And he was back for more. The man had to have been born in a bed of flaming coffee beans, Annabelle reasoned. It was the only real explanation for how he could drink it not only black, but black, decaf, and hotter than the devil’s piss.

When he sat down at the counter again, Annabelle was already pouring him a cup. He laughed and smiled wide at her. “Am I already regular enough for that?”

“Well,” she started with a lopsided grin, “it’s hard to forget a man who wears a suit and tie and drinks coffee almost right from the pot.”

“Oh, so I’m just that memorable, then.”

She didn’t even bother setting the cup down on the counter, instead handing it straight to him. “Yep. It’s the price of having an interesting quirk, I’m afraid.”

He smiled around the rim of the cup as he took a drink. “At least you find me interesting.”

“Oh, darn!” Annabelle snorted, “You caught me!”

He laughed and took another drink. “So, how are you this morning... Annabelle, was it?”

“I’m breathing, I’m conscious, I’m speaking more than yawning; I think as far as being up at the crack of dawn goes, that’s a pretty good start.” She leaned against the back counter. “And you, Mister...?”

His eyebrows shot up and he made a surprised “mm!” sound through his coffee, quickly setting the cup down. “Oh, this is embarrassing -- where are my manners when it counts?” He held out a hand toward her. “I’m Carmine.”

“Trust me, you’re showing more manners than what a waitress usually sees.” Annabelle said with another snort and shook his hand -- very firm, albeit unusually warm. “Nice to meet you.”

With a grin he turned her hand over in his, faintly dusting his mouth over her knuckles. “Pleasure’s all mine, Annabelle.”

She slowly pulled her hand away, at a loss for words. Carmine had the decency to blush. “I’m sorry, that was too forward of me, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, a giggle slipping out in spite of herself. “A little. I’m more surprised that it happened, honestly.” She tilted her head, once more leaning against the back counter. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

He shook his head, lacing his fingers together on the countertop as he shifted forward. “Not the immediate area, no. I just moved here from down south.” He smirked. “Why do you ask? Do I have an accent or is it just that obvious?”

She snickered, “No accent -- that little hand kiss thing sort of gave you away. Not a lot of people around here greet someone quite like that. At least, I’ve never had it happen.”

“Well actually, I usually greet someone with a handshake and the intent of owning their soul, but I think I’d like to know you first.”

Annabelle stared at him for a moment, before breaking into laughter. She crouched down behind the counter, holding onto it with one hand for support as she tried to catch her breath. Carmine started laughing too, peering over the edge. “I’m glad you find it funny. Most people at this point tend to look at me like I’ve grown a second head.”

She took a few steadying breaths before straightening up, wiping a tear from her eye, her face bright red from all the laughing. “Oh no, part of me thinks it’d be easier to just to call up a priest and have you checked out.” She nearly went into another giggle fit as she added, “That was a good one though. More unexpected than anything -- very original.”

Carmine propped his chin up atop his knuckles, a cheshire-like grin on his face. “Again, I’m glad you found it so.”

After a few more attempts to fight off the remaining giggles, Annabelle pulled a menu out from under the counter. “Any breakfast this morning?”

“If it means being in your company a bit longer, then gladly.”

She scratched the back of her head, handing him the menu. “Careful, Carmine -- I’m not supposed to flirt on the job.”

“What about off-shift?” He asked, his hand brushing against hers as he took the menu from her. “That is, if you’d like to. I’d hate to overstep any boundaries.”

Annabelle gave a small smile, playing with the strings of her apron. “I’ll think about it for now.”

“Fair enough,” he said and opened the menu, though his gaze was still fixed on hers. “Now, what do you recommend?”

Her smile turned cheeky as she flipped to the breakfast section of the menu. “Well, since you asked, and you seem completely immune to any sort of burning feeling on your tongue, we have a super spicy omelette called ‘The Five Alarm’...”

* * *

 

Carmine checked his appearance in his car’s vanity mirror as he pulled away from the diner. Everything looked normal still, except his eyes. Damn his eyes. However it was the best he could do, and so far Annabelle hadn’t seemed to notice them.

Annabelle. He loved her name. From the moment she had given it to him he had shamefully obsessed over it for the rest of the day. He had been tempted to go about their meeting the way that his others usually go, but something deep in his chest had told him that maybe he’d be better off getting to know this one. If he was too eager he could scare her away, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Take your time, Carmine,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath through his nose and looking straight into his reflection’s yellow eyes.

“She will come on her own if you’re patient.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious, I actually do have a list of what goes in The Five Alarm -- mix the egg part with a few drops of Frank's Red Hot sauce, then add spicy sausage, pepper jack cheese, jalapenos, and serve it with red pepper flakes.
> 
> [shrug] I'm a baby when it comes to spicy foods, so if you try it let me know hehehe


	4. The Errand

 “ _Hey Annie! There’s a special little box here with your name on it~! Come get it while it’s hot!_ ”

The voicemail from Clara had been on Annabelle’s mind for the majority of her shift. The moment that Megan walked in, Annabelle was free to run out the door and go to Sinful Hideaway. But the more she thought about how much longer she had to wait until that moment, the slower the clock wanted to move. To say it was agonizing was an understatement.

The sound of the door chime made Annabelle jump, her eyes snapping from the clock to see Carmine taking a seat at the counter. “Someone’s skittish,” he said as she picked up the coffee pot. “Rough night?”

Annabelle shook her head, smiling some and glancing at the clock again. “Just anxious to get off work.”

“Oh. Plans?”

“No, just an errand to run.”

Carmine sipped at his coffee while watching Annabelle fidget behind the counter with her bus rag. “You seem worked up about it.”

She froze, before sighing and setting the rag down. “I’m not. I just... it involves seeing someone.” Her eyes flicked around aimlessly as she searched for the right words. “Someone who I really...”

“Don’t like?”

“Oh, no! No, no, it’s not at all like that... More of the opposite.”

Carmine’s eyebrows shot up, and his shoulders sank. “Oh.”

After a moment, Annabelle shook her head. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Act like your chances have been hurt.” She leaned over the counter, her eyes piercing into his. “It’s unflattering.”

With that she straightened up and turned away from him, snatching up her bus rag and a dirty cup from one of the tubs. “Sorry. I mean, I meant what I said about the chances thing, but that was probably a bit cold.”

He shook his head and drank. “It was well deserved. If anything I feel worse for trying to charm you when you already have your sights elsewhere.”

Annabelle laughed quietly. “It’s just hard to let go. Especially since it’s nothing they did wrong.”

The two resumed in silence for awhile, Annabelle stepping away from the counter a few times to run some orders. When she paused to refill his cup, Carmine asked, “I suppose asking if you’d like to go somewhere after your errands is a bit ill-timed, then.”

She hesitated, before giving a small smile. “Not completely.”

* * *

 

Clara was bouncing behind the counter the moment that Annabelle walked into the shop. “There she is, there she is~!” she sing-songed as she pulled out the package from behind the counter.

Annabelle smiled, tapping her hands against the box as Clara pulled out the box cutter. “Mm, I dunno. I know you said you wanted to see this but... Maybe I should take this home and call you about it later.”

Clara made a pouting face. “Meanie.”

Annabelle giggled and gestured for her friend to proceed, which she did with no small amount of giddiness. Annabelle took a deep breath before digging her hands in, her breath hitching when she felt the item. Looking at Clara one more time, she pulled it out.

A white, fluffy fox tail, attached to a silicone anal plug of the same color. Clara let out a soft gasp, feeling the fur. “Holy shit, that’s soft.”

Annabelle nodded, stroking it some and giving the plug a squeeze. “It’s a little bigger down here than I thought it’d be.”

“It’s not so bad -- you bought one about that size like a month ago, hun. Don’t tell me you haven’t used it yet.”

“Oh no, I have. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Annabelle set the tail down on the counter and dug through the box again, pulling out a matching set of fox ears. “Hrm. I hope the headband doesn’t squeeze my head too much.”

“Well try it on, silly! If it doesn’t fit you, I’ll gladly trade you some lube for it~”

Annabelle snorted, sliding the ears onto her head. After tilting her head back and forth she shrugged and said, “I think it just needs some breaking in.”

“Mmm, just how you wanna be someday, right?” Clara said with a wink.

Annabelle blushed, quickly taking the ears off and packing the box up. “You hush. I’m just fine breaking myself, thank you very much.”

“Aw, Annie, come on. You know self-bondage can be dangerous, right? You really need to find a dominant.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Have you?”

Annabelle bit her tongue. Truth be told, Annabelle had been waiting to ask Clara to be her Domme, but once the engagement ring went on, she’d given up on searching altogether. “Building up that kind of trust is hard to do, Clara.”

Clara sighed, “I know, sweetie. But you need to try. Baby steps, that’s all you have to do -- no one is asking you to dive headfirst into it. At least, I’m not.” She took Annabelle’s hands in hers and pat them. “Look, come to the next Blind Bind. You come in, go upstairs, fill out the little questionnaire, and we match you with a few people. It’s like... personalized, kinky speed-dating. Everyone gets a quick background check, we have a blacklist, a strict policy about obeying safewords, and there’s no like, full-blown, genitals touching sex. Just exploring the surface, testing out the softcore stuff to see if you want to take each other home.”

Annabelle sighed, staring at their hands. “...When is it?”

Clara’s eyes lit up. “Saturday, eight-o-clock.”

* * *

 

Carmine flipped through the vinyl sleeves, the albums softly patting against each other as he passed over each frayed edge of their covers. Every now and then he glanced at his watch, his nerves getting the best of him; Annabelle was going to meet him soon in this store, and with every minute his excitement was mounting. Something about her was absolutely intoxicating, and part of him worried -- and despised -- that he would come off as too eager, too obsessed, too... “thirsty”. That _was_ what the youth called it these days, right? Carmine could never keep up with how quickly the modern world’s vernacular changed, but the word seemed, to him, a bit on the nose in terms of how he felt.

So absorbed in his thoughts, Carmine hadn’t even noticed the person next to him until he saw them move in his peripherals. His head snapped up to see Annabelle, her head tilted slightly at the records he was paging through. She smiled and pulled out the one he was looking at, her hands just barely touching his as she did so.

“Funny,” she said, her smile never faltering as she looked between him and the record. “I never would’ve expected you to be a classic metal fan.”

Carmine raised an eyebrow. In all honesty, he hadn’t been paying much attention to the section he was in. He just needed something to take his mind off of waiting. He glanced down at the vinyl in her hand: Black Sabbath’s _Paranoid_. He smiled back at her, silently relieved it was one he was familiar with. “And what sort of music would you expect me to listen to?”

Annabelle made an exaggerated pondering face, humming. “I was thinking you were more of an opera kind of guy. Or maybe blues.” She then mock gasped, hugging the vinyl to her chest. “Oh god -- you’re not a fan of _country_ are you? Because I don’t know if I can be _seen_ with you, if that’s the case!”

Carmine laughed, “I wouldn’t say I’m a fan, though there are a few country artists I like.”

She poked out her lower lip, narrowing her eyes and trying to smother a grin. “Hmm. I think I can still get along with you, then. Just no Brad Paisley.”

“Nope. None of that.” He made an “x” over his chest and raised a hand.

She finally let go of the giggle she’d been holding back, loosening her grip on the album. “Okay, seriously though -- besides the very old and beloved Black Sabbath, what else do you like?”

“Well, you were right about opera,” Carmine said. “I like most classical music though, so opera tends to fall under that umbrella for me.” He then shrugged, flipping through the albums again. “I like a little of everything, though. With the vast range of music that’s out there and available, it’s difficult to commit myself to just one genre.”

Annabelle tucked _Paranoid_ under one arm and sifted through the box next to him. “Understandable, and very nicely put. I’m pretty much the same way, except for, y’know, country. I dunno what it is, but something about it is just kind of off-putting to me. You ever get that feeling about certain genres?”

Carmine thought for a moment. “Techno.”

Annabelle sucked on her teeth. “See, the really synth-heavy, vaporwave kind of stuff I’ll have to disagree --”

“No, no, that kind is all well and good. I’m talking about the kind with the heavy beats and distortion. Too much noise.”

“Fair enough.”

For a few moments the two of them continued sifting through the boxes in a comfortable silence. When they had searched through most of the metal selection, Annabelle brought _Paranoid_ up to the counter, as well as a few others of its ilk.

“I figure if I’m going to drown out the neighbors, it might as well be heavy metal,” she reasoned as they were leaving the store. “Plus, they haven’t come to me to complain yet. That means they either don’t care, they’re super into it, or they think I worship the devil and are too afraid to ask me to stop.”

“Well, if you really want to sell them on the last option --” Carmine leaned close to her ear “-- I can always dress the part.”

Annabelle snorted and roughly elbowed him away. “If I still like you enough by Halloween, I’ll consider it.”

A playful grin stretched across his face. “I’ll keep that in mind and stay in your good graces, then.” His eyes drifted downward for a moment to the two bags in her hand. One he just saw her get from the record store, but the other was a solid black. He gestured to it. “So, was that your errand?”

She raised an eyebrow at him before looking down at the bag and immediately switching it to her free hand, hiding it at her side. “Yeah, this was the errand. Personal stuff -- I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He made another “x” over his chest. “I’ll keep my curiosity contained.”

She snickered, nudging him again. “You’d make a better boy scout than a devil.”

Carmine couldn’t help the slight smirk at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;u; so i know it's just a few of you out there who are reading at this moment of posting, but lemme just say that still makes me feel so damn good -- y'all mean a lot to me [huggles]
> 
> I'm also realizing the chapters are kind of short. The next two aren't gonna be much longer than this one sadly, but I wanted to try and keep the relationship at a reasonable pace. After the next two chaps, things will pick up and the chapters will get longer and things will go DOWN. I might go down to a chapter every other week so I can get ahead on a few more, since I'm gonna *try* not to let this story go on pause for too long.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support my dudes ;u; I'll see you next time around.


	5. The Eyes

“So, we’ve talked music.” Annabelle sat back in her seat as she looked over the Coney Island menu. “What about books?”

“Oh they are absolutely _dull_ ,” Carmine said with a dramatic wave of his hand. “I couldn’t _possibly_ be bothered unless they have pictures.”

Annabelle hissed between her teeth and shook her head. “See, now you’ve gone and just completely ruined anything that could happen between us! First country music, now you don’t like books. What did I find interesting about you again?”

“This,” Carmine said as he reached for his hot coffee and downed half of it like it was water.

Annabelle stared at him for a beat before looking at her menu again. “Fair enough.”

He smiled, the steam from his coffee curling in front of his face. “My taste in books is pretty similar to music; I read a lot of genres and have a lot of favorites.”

The two paused for a moment as they ordered their food, before Annabelle scooted forward in the booth seat and propped her head up in her hands. “So who or what do you think you read the most?”

Carmine thought about it as he took another drink. “I think my collection of Terry Pratchett books gets a lot of love. _Good Omens_ , especially. And you?”

“Well, I don’t follow authors as much as I used to.” She then laughed sheepishly and ran a hand through her hair. “Though, in high school I probably read Stephenie Meyers’s books at least four times each. Shut up.”

Carmine bit his lip, stifling a laugh. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you were totally thinking it.” She pointed at him with an accusing finger. “A lot of girls my age at the time were into it, too. You can’t blame me for getting swept up in the hype before realizing the many, _many_ flaws that were in Bella and Edward’s relationship.”

“I’m not judging!” Carmine couldn’t hold back the grin. “I can’t judge you, really -- I’d be lying to myself if I did.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “ _No_.”

He nodded, laughing now. “I wasn’t exactly caught up in it quite to the levels of everyone else, but I will admit that I was disappointed Bella didn’t go with Jacob.”

“ _Right?!_ ” Her eyes lit up and she laughed, “I mean, not that it was really _surprising_ \--”

“-- Of course not! --”

“-- but who in their right mind chooses a cold-ass hunk of marble over a _literally_ hot bod? That’s gotta be the worst thing to wake up cuddling next to, unless the summers in Forks are hot as hell.”

Carmine leaned forward, one eyebrow raised. “Mm, you’re a cuddler, then? Noted.”

Annabelle snorted and smacked her hands over her face. She peeked at him between her fingers, giggling, “Shut up!”

“Nope. Too late, it’s been said and you haven’t denied it -- I am definitely taking note.”

She rolled her eyes, taking her hands from her face only to reach for a packet of jelly on the table and toss it at him. “Take note of _that_!”

He started laughing again, picking it up from his lap and setting it on the table, before miming holding a pen and paper and “writing” as he spoke, “Cuddly... but... feisty...”

Annabelle threw her arms up in defeat before folding them atop the table, though she couldn’t help the smile on her face. Eventually Carmine’s laughter died down, and he mirrored her posture, though his smile was more of a light smirk. As they fell into a comfortable silence, Annabelle found herself taking note of various things about Carmine that she hadn’t before. He had a faint stubble along his chin and sharp jawline. His dark hair was dusted with silver strands here and there, more prominently near his sideburns. The faintest of scars drew a line between his eyes --

Which were a bright, striking yellow.

Annabelle’s brows shot up and she leaned forward. “Are you wearing contacts?”

Carmine tilted his head. “Pardon?”

“Your eyes!” She leaned forward more, squinting. “They can’t really be that yellow -- are they?”

His smirk turned into a sheepish grin. “They are. Why? Too creepy? I can wear sunglasses from now on if you prefer --”

“No, no!” Annabelle finally retreated back into her space as their food was brought out. “That’s amazing, though. Do other people find it creepy?”

“Sometimes,” Carmine said as he began twirling spaghetti around his fork. “The word people usually like is ‘unsettling’.”

“They say that to your face?”

He shrugged. “Not always -- I have good enough hearing though that it might as well be the case.”

Annabelle finished off her forkful of cheese fries before pushing out her lower lip. “Well, that’s rude.”

“Indeed, but I’ve learned to live with it.” The corners of his mouth quirked. “Makes work more fun.”

“Oh? What do you do for work?”

“Only the most hated profession next to dentistry: lawyer.”

Annabelle laughed, shaking her head. “Wow, so I take it then that you can’t _wait_ to make the witness piss themselves once they see your eyes.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a wink. “Though, usually my clients are pissing themselves too -- people don’t come to me unless they’re _very_ desperate.”

“Ooo~ sounds intense.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Any interesting cases you can share with me?”

He laughed and shook his head. “None that you won’t likely hate me for. Usually the desperate ones are also the ones who probably don’t deserve to win.”

Annabelle’s face fell slightly before she laughed, “And you still sleep at night, feeling that way? How heartless.”

“It keeps me fed, so any personal beliefs I have in the end are irrelevant.” Carmine took another bite of food. “Doesn’t mean I sleep easily, though.”

She frowned and stuffed another forkful in her mouth, trying to find the right thing to say. After another bite she pulled the table’s napkin dispenser towards her, pulling a sheet out and digging through her purse for a pen. Carmine watched with an eyebrow quirked, trying to peek over the table at her scribbling. When she finished she slid the napkin across the table to him. In small handwriting, surrounded by doodled stars:

_Annabelle Ellison_

_(342) 555-6756_

“I don’t know if it means much, but if you ever want to vent about it, you can call me. As long as it’s not, y’know, three in the morning.”

Carmine seemed unsure at first. Unbeknownst to her, his silence was attributed to the fact that his eyes were following every curve and curl of her script, making the stars pop in and out of his focused gaze, before folding the napkin and tucking it away in an inside breast pocket. With a wink he said, “I’ll make sure to call at 2:45.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done writing to a point I'd feel comfortable leaving everyone off for a while. I'm gonna get back to posting a chapter a week now. There will be 10 chapters total, with Chapter 7 being I guess a mini-climax of sorts, 8-9 being winding down and settling kind of stuff, and then 10... well, 10 will kick things back up again at the end >u<
> 
> I dunno if I'll make this as a series of works on here or one giant work, yet, given how each part is more of an arc rather than a stand-alone piece. [shrug] I guess I'll decide by the time I post chapter 10 though.
> 
> Thank you again for continued support and readership. This story's been a labor of love for a long time and it feels nice having it up for lots of people to read rather than before when I was only showing things a chapter at a time to one person.


	6. The Call

The fireplace roared to life, bathing the drawing room in a soft, orange glow. Carmine sat back in his leather armchair, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand while the other pushed back a stray lock of hair. In the matching chair beside him, another man sat, his legs crossed and a wide smile on his face. While Carmine exuded an air of quiet confidence, the man to his right oozed arrogance. He dressed in a button-up shirt similar to Carmine’s, and wore a crisp black bowtie and red suspenders, the hems of his pants cropped up to show gaudy, argyle-patterned socks and white slip-on shoes. One could describe him as spiffily dressed. Carmine, however, saw it as his guest’s way of mocking him.

“Really,” the man said, resting his cheek against his palm, “you expect me to believe that you’ve gone quiet for over a week for that? After all these years?”

Carmine sipped at his whiskey, rolling his eyes. “I don’t expect you to believe anything, Azazel. But I can provide proof if you need it.”

Azazel leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide with curiosity. With another roll of his eyes, Carmine reached into his pocket and retrieved from it the napkin with Annabelle’s number on it. Giddily, Azazel snatched it from him, holding it up in front of the firelight.

“You charming devil, you!” he laughed, his gaze sliding from the napkin to Carmine. “How ever did you find this one?”

“A diner off of I-180.”

“With the coffee you won’t shut up about?”

“The very same.”

Azazel whistled low, handing the napkin back. “Well now you know I’m going to _insist_ on meeting her.”

Carmine paused mid-drink. “I’d prefer you didn’t. So far we’ve only been on one date. Technically.”

“Technically?”

“We looked at records and had dinner.”

“And she gave you her number. Carmine, there’s no ‘technically’ about it!”

He couldn’t help the smile at that before hiding it with another sip of whiskey. “Shut up.”

“If you’ll tell me why you won’t let me meet her.”

Carmine sighed and stood. “Because, Azazel, if you meet her now, I have no assurance from you that you won’t blow this up in my face before it has had a chance to reach fruition.”

Azazel groaned, leaning back in the armchair. “English, please.”

“If you meet her, you’re going to blow the secret wide open, you absolute _prick_.”

He gasped, putting a hand over his chest. “You have so little faith in me!”

“Of course I do.”

“As you should,” he laughed, standing up as well and leaning against the fireplace mantle. “So, what would stop me from meeting her by myself?”

Carmine grinned, the fireplace casting sharp shadows across his face. “You hate spoilers.”

Azazel seemed to ponder this for a moment, twisting the backs of his lip piercings with his tongue. “A fair point. When can I meet her then?”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait.” Carmine turned his head toward the fireplace and downed the rest of his glass. “After all, these things take time.”

“Ugh, only the way that _you_ do them. And to think I ever wondered why it took you so long to find someone.” Azazel sighed dramatically and pushed away from the fireplace, waving a hand as he left the room. “Have fun courting your new pet, brother~!”

Carmine waited to hear the door close before sitting back down, sighing through his nose. He hadn’t even _invited_ his insufferable older brother over. As usual, Azazel had shown up unannounced and was raiding through Carmine’s alcohol stores like a frat boy wanting to throw a toga party. If Carmine was being honest with himself, though, he wouldn’t be surprised if in a few weeks he received an invitation.

He pulled out the napkin once more, tracing the stars on it with his thumb before reaching for his phone.

The phone rang on the other end once, twice, halfway through the third time it stopped.

“Hello?” came a tired voice.

Carmine’s heart skipped a beat. “Annabelle?”

“Carmine?” A yawn crackled through the speaker. “Whu’ time izzit?”

“It’s almost noon -- you’re still in bed?”

“Mm, sort of. I’ve been drifting in and out all morning. Though, I’m kind of enjoying hearing your voice first thing in the morning.”

A smile crept onto his face. “Maybe one day it’ll be in person.”

There was a sleepy giggle on the other end. “Maybe. So, what’s up?”

He cleared his throat, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “I was hoping to see you outside of work again. Are you free today?”

“Uhm...” Shuffling, followed by a hissed curse. “No, I’m actually supposed to meet my folks for lunch in an hour, and then... Shit.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, nothing. Just - just some plans I completely forgot that I’m not at all ready for.”

He sank in the chair some. “Oh. All right... tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow... tomorrow’s good!”

“Fantastic. Does around two work?”

“It’s perfect. I’ll see you then, okay?” She paused. “Wait -- can I text you at this number? If my plans tonight go south I think I might need you to get me out.”

He laughed, though furrowed his brow. What would she need that for? “You can text me for whatever you need.”

“You’re the best. I’ll see you tomorrow, then!”

“I look forward to it.”

After hanging up, Carmine took a deep breath.

_What the hell am I supposed to do with my day now?_

* * *

 

The record store had been Carmine’s first plan. He had intended to buy a few of the more rare selections he had seen when there with Annabelle before, but was immediately stopped in his tracks when he noticed a sign down the alley.

_Sinful Hideaway_

_Adult Books & Novelty _

_Now, how long has that been there?_ He found his curiosity getting the best of him as he stepped through the door, an evil glint in his eye. He hadn’t been expecting the hellish theme, nor was he disappointed by it. In fact, he seemed to be entertained as he sauntered through the aisles of toys. His excitement peaked when he found the section of bondage toys, unable to resist picking up a pair of leather cuffs from the display table.

“Hello!”

It took every ounce of dignity he had for Carmine not to jump out of his skin, barely managing to calmly turn and face the person who spoke to him. She was maybe his height, with tanned skin and springy curls framing her heart-shaped face. Her lanyard had a nametag, reading “Clara” in cutesy cursive.

“Finding everything alright?”

He smiled wide before setting the cuffs back down. “Absolutely. I’ve actually never been here before, so I’m a bit... overwhelmed.”

Clara laughed, “Yeah, that usually happens with first-time customers. Our selection is _insane_ , right?”

“It’s certainly extensive.” Carmine let his eyes wander the shop a bit. “More so than any other adult shop I’ve seen.”

Clara’s smile turned a bit sultry as she leaned against the display table. “Do you have any questions? Anything I can help such a well-dressed gentleman with?”

He couldn’t help but return the expression, one eyebrow raised. “Hmm. Well, if you have any suggestions I’d be grateful for them, but nothing in particular comes to mind.”

“Well~” she gestured for him to follow her to the checkout counter, “if you’re interested in the bondage stuff, do you think you’d be interested in meeting other folks in that community?” She pulled out a small packet of papers from behind the counter and handed it to him. “We usually rent out the rooms on the second floor for people holding sex ed conferences, but sometimes we have this sort of speed-dating thing. I know it’s last minute, but we can still squeeze you in for tonight’s round, if you’d like.”

Carmine slowly looked the paper over. It read at the top, “Blind Bind Rules and Questionnaire”, and asked his name, his sexual preference and interests, if he was tested... At first he wasn’t completely sure what to make of it. It sounded like an interesting romp if nothing else, and perhaps a good way to -- again, if nothing else -- vent some of his urges. But he didn’t like the impersonal aspect of it. It seemed far too casual for his tastes.

Clara must have sensed his hesitation; she leaned forward on the counter. “I have a good friend who’s doing this tonight. She’s really nervous, and so far the people my co-workers have matched her with are probably not going to work out.” She sighed, resting her head in her hand. “They just don’t know her as well as I do, y’know? She’s like my li’l babydoll. Not that she’s _literally_ little, or y’know, a ‘Little’, but we’re close.”

Carmine raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting that I meet her?”

“Mmmmaybe~. She’s real cute. And you seem like a courteous enough guy to respect her.” She leaned forward a little further and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m technically not supposed to tell you who your potential partners could be for the night, but I _will_ tell you that she’s one of the girls from Ellison’s.”

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Do you have a pen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last chapter of build-up. A bit of fun starts next ;3 Are you ready?


	7. The Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Blind Bind~

Annabelle took a few slow, deep breaths. So far, three of three matches had been... less than ideal.

The first had insisted she would look lovely in some complicated suspension bondage, showing her photos of his ropework. While it was beautifully done, in some pictures he had his subjects cleave gagged with ropes that were incorporated into the rest of the harness. At first she felt she could compromise with that if he used cotton ropes, but then a photo of a woman whose long hair had been incorporated into the tie immediately turned her off and she declined.

The second was shy. Too shy. Very little experience or confidence. Something else had seemed off about him when he had come in, and she soon realized what it was: he had on a wedding ring. He had said he just wanted to learn some new tricks in bed to surprise his partner but Annabelle was not about to risk having said partner come in during a session and throw out the word “cheating”. While it was thoughtful -- if it were the truth -- she knew she’d want to be told by her partner whether or not they were going to learn new tricks through outside help.

The third had been a woman who was so, so close. She had treated Annabelle gently, called her wonderful pet names that sent chills down her spine, didn’t push too far... and then started tickling her. At least that rejection had been mutual -- Annabelle nearly kicked the woman’s face. They doubted any type of restraint could keep her down in a situation like that. They had a laugh about it, and parted ways.

There was only one more person on the list; another man, a good few years older than her, and “firmly dominant”. At this point in the night, Annabelle kept her hopes at a reasonable level: relatively low and not expecting much.

She took another deep breath as the lights in the room lowered, and she watched the door from the plush chair. In spite of the previous encounters, her heart still pounded when she saw the doorknob turn, and couldn’t help but close her eyes for a moment as the door opened.  _Low expectations, low expectations..._

“Annabelle?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she swore her heart stopped.

“Carmine...”

He was dressed more casually than she had ever seen him: black slacks and a white button-up, his tie loosely hung around his neck. The door closed with a soft  _click_ behind him as he took a step forward, taking in her appearance. The blush in her cheeks was highlighted by a creamy white sundress -- a touch too cold for the October weather, but considerably appropriate given her sweet outward nature. His gaze settled on her hands, fidgeting in her lap with the hem of her skirt.

A grin slowly spread across his face. “So, this is what you were referring to this morning then?”

Annabelle avoided his gaze, but nodded her head. “I’m not -- I’m not particularly open about this side of me. Clara just wanted to help so I’m not always doing self-bondage.”

“She’s right to do so,” Carmine remarked, stepping closer to the chair. “It’s some risky stuff, and even if you’re safe you can still make mistakes.”

Hesitantly she finally met his gaze, and found herself unable to look away once she did. His yellow eyes seemed to glow in the warm lighting of the room, appearing to grow brighter as he approached the chair. As he brought himself down on his knees before her, he took her hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“Tell me everything that you enjoy, pet.”

Annabelle’s cheeks flared up once again. “‘Pet’ is a good place to start.”

“Good, because that’s one of my favorites to use.” He squeezed her hands again. “What else?”

“Um... most nicknames are good. Except insults,” she added quickly. “Or um. I’m not super fond of ‘baby’ either.”

“Do you mind ‘little one’?”

She felt a pleasurable shiver go down her spine. “Not at all.”

“Wonderful.” He rubbed his thumbs against her skin. “What else? I want to know everything I can before moving ahead.”

Annabelle started giggling. “It might be easier to give you my limits than my likes, I think.”

“True,” Carmine said before kissing both her hands. “Would you be willing to let me move forward, then?”

She felt another pleasurable shiver down her spine, and she nodded. “As long as you stop when I ask.”

“You have my word.” He finally stood up and released her hands, trailing his up her arms as he rose. At his full height, he brought one hand to a stop under her chin, taking it between his thumb and forefinger as a borderline sinister grin split across his face.

“I wonder if you have any idea what you’re getting into...”

Annabelle’s eyes narrowed. “You really think I’d be at a bondage event if --”

Carmine’s laughter cut her off. “No, no, not that. I’m sure you’re  _very_ knowledgeable of the kink and what it entails.” He sighed, tilting his head as he moved his hand from her chin to the back of her head, threading his fingers in her hair. “I’m talking about what you’re getting into with  _me_ , little one.”

The skeptical look she had quickly faltered as she made a soft sound of understanding, before giving him a cheeky grin of her own. “Just what exactly would that be?”

His eyes sparked and he gave her hair a light tug, tilting her head back farther as he leaned over the chair, his free hand against the back to close her in. “Maybe it’s better to show you, since you’re so curious.”

He released her and started slowly circling behind the chair, one hand loosening his tie while playing with her hair with the other. When Annabelle turned her head to follow his movements, Carmine pulled his hand away, chuckling quietly. “Eyes forward, pet. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, would you?”

She poked out her lower lip but obeyed, turning her head forward.

Carmine laughed again and pat her head, standing behind the chair at this point. “Aw, no need to pout. With what I have planned, you won’t need to see anyways.”

With that, he pulled his tie over her eyes, tightening it behind her head with a sharp tug. Annabelle couldn’t help the soft gasp as her sight was taken away, her heartbeat suddenly becoming much more noticeable to her in the darkness. Carmine’s hands caressed her cheeks, brushing her bangs out of her face and freeing her hair from under the makeshift blindfold. As he tangled his fingers in her tresses he let out a sigh himself, leaning close to her ear and whispering, “You know, pet, I think we were meant to meet here tonight.”

“Mm-hmm.” Annabelle nodded and leaned into his touches, tilting her head back as he gently played with her hair. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I could say that if you hadn’t told me you were busy today, I wouldn’t have gone out on my own to explore town, I wouldn’t have found the store downstairs, and I wouldn’t have learned about this little event.” He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Though, I should ultimately be thanking Clara -- I wouldn’t have come to this if she hadn’t had hinted you’d be here.”

She rolled her eyes under the blindfold. “Of course she did -- so much for secrecy. I still don’t know whether to hug or strangle her for asking me to be here tonight.”

“Please don’t strangle her; she seems lovely.”

She sighed through her nose, a soft pink in her cheeks. “She is, isn’t she? Between you and me, I’m jealous of her fiancé. I was  _just_ starting to get up enough courage to ask her to be my Domme, but I waited too long...”

Carmine leaned away, letting her hair fall from his hands as he moved to stand in front of the chair again. “You swing both ways?”

Annabelle snorted. “That’s what you got from that?” She couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that made his heart jump. “It’s more like I swing  _all_ ways. I don’t care the sum of your parts or how you define them -- if I like you, I like you.”

“I see,” he mused, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting it upward. He leaned in as close as he could to her face, their lips just barely a hair’s width apart. “Do you like me?”

She laughed again, reaching her hands up to his face. “You know, I think I do. At least a little. Enough that I’m trusting you right now not to get too frisky with me. I gotta  _really_ know you before I’m comfortable with that.”

He chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled out from his chest like distant thunder. He moved his hands down to her wrists and held them together in one hand, leaning back. “So should I stay above your clothes for now to avoid scaring you off?”

“Please and thank you.”

“You’re welcome, pet.” He undid his belt and swiftly wrapped it around her wrists, slipping the free end between her hands to act as a sort of lead. He pulled on it gently, saying “up” as he did so. She complied, twisting her hands around a little to test the tightness as she heard him move behind her, squeaking as he pulled her down onto his lap with her back facing him. He coaxed her legs apart with his knees, spreading them ever-so-slightly and bringing her arms over his head so that he had to rest his chin on her shoulder. Once they were resituated, he snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “Ah, much better, don’t you think, pet?”

Annabelle’s heart had leapt to her throat as she struggled in his lap a little. “I’m uh, a bit more vulnerable than I’d like to be right now. Can I at least close my legs... Sir?”

Carmine placed another soft kiss to her neck, spreading his legs wider so that hers slid off and came together between him. “Better now?” When she nodded, he squeezed her a little closer to him. “Good. Such a polite little thing, aren’t you? Already calling me Sir, without me even needing to prompt you. Just how long have you been hoping to have someone own you in this way?”

“G-god, um. I was shown this kind of stuff when I was maybe... eighteen? Nineteen? So um... between seven and eight years.”

He let out a low whistle. “My, my -- such a long time to wait.”

“Clara got engaged around the three-year mark, and my sexual interests aren’t exactly something I can just casually --”

He put a hand over her mouth, laughing quietly at her muffled shout. “All right, all right. You don’t have to get so snippy, darling.” He pressed down over her mouth a little tighter, nipping her earlobe before letting go. “I’m only teasing you.”

Annabelle bit her lip, turning her head away so he wouldn’t see her blush. “Can... can you do that again?”

“Mm, do what?” Carmine asked as he nuzzled her neck. “I like specifics, little one.”

She felt a slight shiver down her spine. “...cover my mouth?”

A wicked grin split across his face as he replaced his hand on her face, holding it firmly over her lips. “You like being kept quiet?” When she nodded, he groaned softly and kissed where her neck and shoulder met. “I wonder why... are you loud in the bedroom? Or do you just like the feeling of being unable to make a sound no matter how hard you try?” He nipped at the spot he was kissing and moaned at the responding squeak. “Fuck, Annabelle... You’re making it very hard not to just pick you up and carry you home with me right now. And with no plans tomorrow? I could have you all to myself for a whole twenty-four hours... And every single hour I would spend learning every single curve, crevice, and quirk that you have. All the while, maybe listening to vinyls, watching movies, whatever you’d like to do, pet.” His free hand drifted up and down her side as he said this, giving her hip a light squeeze. “Maybe, just maybe, if you felt comfortable enough, we would end the day with a bit more  _intimate_ exploration.”

With one more kiss to her neck, he released his hold over her mouth. “But only if and when you were comfortable enough.”

Annabelle couldn’t suppress the pleasurable shudder, even as Carmine pulled her arms back over his head and undid the belt around her wrists. Once her hands were free and he pulled the blindfold from her eyes, he kissed her temple. The words “how was that” were just on the tip of his tongue when she took his face in her hands and gave him -- and his tongue -- a far better answer than he expected.

* * *

“So, you’ve got quite the little dark side to you.”

Annabelle looked up from her ice cream, her sheepish smile wrapped around a plastic spoon. “Gues’sho.”

Carmine smiled in kind, throwing out his own empty cup and sitting down on the curb in front of the coney island. As she sat down next to him, she pulled her spoon out with a soft  _pop_. “You and Clara are the only ones who know about it. I hope it goes without saying, but I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But of course,” Carmine replied in a low voice, the bass tone of it making Annabelle’s heart skip a beat. “Though, I would be interested in exploring it a little more with you, so long as you don’t mind.”

She nearly choked on her next scoop. “Well, I um -- I dunno -- it’s a little soon to ask you to be my Dom --”

“I wouldn’t push you into that so soon,” he quickly added. “I was just...  _proposing_ that maybe if you’d like to do a little more of what we had back there,” he indicated in the direction of the shop with his head, “I’m more than open to do so, if only so you’re not practicing alone anymore.” He then wrapped an arm around Annabelle’s shoulders, pulling her close to him so he could whisper in her ear, “Now, if further down the line you feel you’re ready to handle it...”

Annabelle stuffed the biggest spoonful in her mouth that she could handle to stifle her urge to moan. After letting it sit and melt on her tongue for a moment, she slowly slid the spoon from her mouth, carefully considering what she said next.

“I’ll text you my address.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah~ finally~


	8. The Talk

Sunlight streamed in through the apartment window, sending thin strings of light between the blinds and across Annabelle’s bed. She stirred, feeling the warm beams over her face and rolling herself over away from the window. With a tired, fumbling hand she reached for her nightstand, clumsily picking up her phone and checking the time through squinted eyes.

12:11pm.

She groaned and rolled onto her back, taking her phone with her. A pair of texts from Carmine were underneath the time.

_"Good morning, Annabelle._

_"Would you still like me to be over around 2? Or earlier?"_

Annabelle threw off the blankets and forced herself out of bed. _Shit shit shit_ \-- she forgot to set an alarm. She meant to wake up earlier and have Carmine come over sooner. She continued to spit a string of random curses as she sent a reply to him.

_"I just woke up oh my god I’m so sorry_

_"Good morning_

_"Or afternoon_

_"You can come over whenever you like I just have to shower and change first"_

As she started raiding through her closet for something cute to wear, her phone rang again.

_"Sounds fantastic. I’ll be there in about an hour then._

_"See you soon, little dove~"_

Her heart skipped a beat, unable to help a giddy, foot-stamping dance before she hopped into the shower. She washed as quickly as she could, going as far to skip using conditioner, while thinking about what the two of them could do together. She wasn’t really sure what he had in mind, nor did she really think about what she had around her apartment as far as entertaining guests. She had her vinyls, a decent movie collection, two game consoles -- she doubted Carmine was really a video game person, but she didn’t have anything for more than one player anyways so maybe he’d be interested in watching? There was also the question of whether or not he’d want to get down to... “business” right away.

Annabelle vigorously towel-dried her hair, her thoughts drifting to Carmine himself. He’d found out a dark secret of hers. One that made trips to the hardware store a struggle to get through without thinking of the devious things that can be done with the right rope. In a way, she was relieved he found out in the way he had; it took the pressure off of her telling him if their relationship developed to that point. On the other hand, she was starting to have some second thoughts about agreeing to continue to do what they’d done the night before. While she had thoroughly enjoyed their time together, Annabelle wasn’t sure if she wanted Carmine to see her so vulnerable, especially when she’d only known him a few days. Were they moving too fast?

As she fought to get her hair into a semi-presentable state, she couldn’t help but feel like something else was off. Not about the visit, nothing in relation to Carmine -- just that as she walked around her apartment, occasionally catching a glance outside at the falling autumn leaves, there was something amiss. Was she forgetting something else today? Annabelle checked her phone once more to read the date, and once again cursed under her breath.

* * *

Carmine could hardly contain himself. The last time he had felt such genuine excitement, by his best guess, was when he received his first vintage Lincoln -- a 1965 Continental, white like snow and a custom red leather interior. A client had given it to him in exchange for his work, one of the rare times that he had accepted any other form of payment than his usual take. He rarely took it anywhere, but every time he got inside something about it felt like being... _reborn_.

It was the same feeling that he got every time he saw Annabelle. Like a fire burning in his chest that ignited and extinguished, there was a rush that would run through his veins and stay until she was out of sight. After their encounter at the Blind Bind, Carmine made his decision: Annabelle would be his.

He checked the address on his phone one more time, even though he had it memorized so firmly he could write a song around it. Once he was positive he was standing at the door to her apartment, he leaned down to look at his reflection in the doorknob, grooming his hair back into a presentable state before straightening up, fixing his tie, and knocking.

There was a muffled curse word, followed by some thumping sounds -- a box being dropped? -- and running across carpeted flooring. With every lock that came undone, Carmine’s anticipation mounted. He was going to be spending the day with a woman who had him nearly smitten. What sort of mischief would they be getting into? He couldn't help the smile growing on his face as the last lock clicked free and the door swung open.

Annabelle’s face was flushed, framed with a few strands of hair that had fallen from a messy bun atop her head. With a smile she pulled Carmine into the apartment and hugged him, her shoulders and chest rising and falling like she had been exerting herself, though her voice showed no sign of this.

“I look like a mess, sorry. And the apartment’s a mess. Shit. Um. I can change later if we go out but I was just putting off this stuff for too long and...” Annabelle trailed off and stepped back, closing the door and locking it. With that out of the way she smiled at him and said with a puff of air, “Hi! I’m happy you made it!”

Carmine laughed, shaking his head and pulling her back into his arms. “Hello, darling. You look lovely as ever, don’t apologize.” As they parted he looked around her apartment, eyes widening as he took it in.

Glittery fake candles covered nearly every surface, accompanied by skulls, statuettes of ravens, and ceramic pumpkins. The box on the floor was overflowing with string lights, in varying shades of orange and purple, and all of them -- that he could see -- bat-shaped. One of these strings was a thin, wiry, LED one that Annabelle had set on her kitchen table. There were decorative pillows tossed onto the coffee table that looked fairly generic, but the ones on the couch were patterned with spiders and their lacey webs, and a thick, black throw blanket. It was then that Carmine finally noticed what Annabelle said she could change out of: a black, long-sleeved shirt that was easily a size too big for her, with a cutesy pink bat and the words “shit crazy” written beneath it.

Annabelle was immediately aware of his gaze and crossed one of her arms in front of her, scratching the back of her head with the other hand. “Told you it was a mess.”

“It’s adorable,” Carmine said quickly, taking her by the hand and unable to stifle a grin at seeing her shirt again. “Just like you.”

She grinned in kind, dramatically waving the free hand in an “oh stop, you” gesture, before pulling him further into the apartment. “Feel free to have a seat. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got water, juice, soda -- if you’re an anytime-of-day sort of drinker I have some hard ciders, wine...”

“I’m fine for now, thank you. You didn’t do all this decorating for me, I hope,” he said with a wink.

Annabelle rolled her eyes, picking up the box from the floor and setting it atop her kitchen counter. “I usually do this right when October starts. I guess I’ve been working so much though that I lost track of the days.”

Carmine chuckled, sitting at her table and untangling the LED lights. “You only have a week left -- are you sure you can get all this up in time for the trick-or-treaters?”

She let out a small huff of air, pulling a string of orange bat lights from the box and laying it lengthwise on her countertop. “I don’t have _that_ much left to do. Especially since this year I’m actually skipping out on the Halloween village.”

He couldn’t help the quick glance around her apartment again. It was by no means tiny, though still seemed on the cozier side of things as far as space. “How in the hell do you find room for that?”

She shrugged, sitting on the floor and placing stick-on hooks beneath the counter. “I have a folding round table that I set up by the back door. I throw a black tablecloth over it and go ham.” As she hung up the lights she looked over her shoulder at Carmine, who was still carefully detangling. She opened her mouth to tell him that the particular string he had was for the village’s centerpiece, but she couldn’t help but smile at the way he stuck the tip of his tongue out as he concentrated on every kink in the wire. Not having the heart to stop him, she let him continue as she asked, “Did you have anything in mind for today?”

“Spending time with you, trying out the Chinese restaurant.” He paused, his fingers stilling for a moment. “...spending time with you.”

A faint blush crept to Annabelle’s cheeks as she finished hanging up her string. “Um... do you mind if we just stayed here then? There’s not much to do around town. Nothing that we haven’t already been to, anyways.” She grunted as she stood from her crouching position by the counter, pulling out another string of bats, these ones being purple. “Well, except the theater, but I was thinking of saving that for Halloween since they do this midnight —”

Carmine leaned over in his seat and pecked Annabelle on the top of her head. “Staying here sounds perfect. Especially if you’re still considering my proposal last night.”

Annabelle hesitated. Did she still want to try more? Part of her did; the part that was deeply seated within her, gnawing at her loins and heart. Another part, however, was quivering and nervously shuffling its feet, hemming and hawing on the topic. She took a shaky breath and set the lights down, pushing herself up from the floor to be more level with Carmine’s eyes.

“I would like to,” she finally said. “But... I need to ask you something.”

Carmine set down his little project on the table and took her hands into his, holding her gaze. “Anything.”

She kept looking into his eyes, searching them for any changes as she asked, “If I change my mind, at any time, are you going to be mad at me?”

The two waited in silence for a moment, Annabelle continuing to stare into Carmine’s startling yellow eyes, as he stared back into her bright blue ones. His hold on her hands slowly tightened to a squeeze before relaxing, and his brow furrowed. “Who have you been with that’s done that to you?”

Annabelle shook her head. “No one. It’s one of the first things I ask before any sex with anyone, and anyone that’s told me ‘yes’ or implied that they _wanted_ to say that, I’ve kicked out.” She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Right now, I like you a lot. I’ve taken to you way quicker than I have anyone in my life. But I need to know, right here, right now, whether or not you are going to pull that shit.”

She felt one of Carmine’s hands caress her cheek and her eyes snapped open, suddenly piercing and fierce. His own widened at the sudden action, but he did not flinch, instead brushing his thumb over her cheekbone and not once breaking eye contact.

“I will never be mad at you for something that you have every right to do. If you ever, _ever_ need to revoke consent, I have no right, no _reason_ to stop you or coerce you otherwise.” He gave her hands a light squeeze. “I will only ever ask why, so that if it’s something I’ve done I can do better the next time around, presuming that I haven’t ruined things too much for there to _be_ a next time.”

The fire in Annabelle’s eyes receded, and a relieved smile formed on her face. She freed a hand and held his against her cheek, before turning her face to kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

* * *

By the time the two were ready for dinner, Annabelle’s decoration boxes were empty and her entire apartment was all but covered in shades of black, purple, and orange. On the coffee table was an array of Chinese takeout boxes, an open bottle of wine that was just over half-full, and a paperweight shaped like dragon, its jaws clenched tight around a purple glass sphere. The television was on, and though they both found the marathon of the detective adventures of Kate Beckett and Richard Castle exciting, the volume was turned low. Annabelle’s cheeks were tinted a faint pink color, although her wine glass still had a third left of what was poured, while Carmine was already on his second and showed no signs of inebriation just yet.

“So, the lady comes up to the counter, carrying this big ol’ baby --” Annabelle mimed carrying a toddler, arms outstretched a bit as if holding the imaginary child by the armpits, “-- who can probably walk on her own she’s so big, and just sets her down right on top of the counter.” She blew a raspberry as she acted out the motion of setting down the child on the coffee table. “At first I’m thinking, ‘okay, kind of rude, but maybe she needs a free hand to get into her purse for her wallet or something, at least the baby isn’t pooping herself, I can wipe this down when she leaves’ -- trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. But then!” her arms shot up in the air, the action so sudden that Carmine started a bit, “ _Then_ this lady looks back at her booth, looks towards the men’s room, and says that she forgot her money in the car. She leaves the diner, and my aunt Tina is watching this whole thing and moves to stand by the door to watch. And oh my god, Carmine -- oh my god.”

Carmine was stifling a laugh. “What?”

“She gets in her car, like fully gets in the driver’s seat, and peels off.”

He couldn’t hold back any longer and burst into laughter. “No one stopped her?”

“My aunt went running out the door, but at that point it was useless. Like she _really_ thought she was going to be able to catch up or something.”

“So what happened when her husband came back?”

Annabelle sipped at her wine. “He comes out, sees she left the kid and the bill, and at first he’s yelling and carrying on about her, calling her names and just making a whole scene. Tina got him to calm down long enough to ask him about the bill, and he started right back up again when he realized his wallet was in the car.” She gave a small shrug. “So my aunt paid it off for him and booked him a motel room for a week, told him he was going to be our new busser until he could get himself a new car.”

Carmine let out a low whistle. “And he still works there?”

She nodded, taking another sip. “His daughter’s out of diapers and is actually starting preschool in the fall. He’s got his own car now and a second job doing web design or something so he’s not in the motel, but I guess we grew on him.”

He gave a slight nod as he drank, chuckling around the rim of his glass. His eyes flicked to the TV for a moment: the current episode of _Castle_ was opening with the two heroes waking up handcuffed together. The image sparked a question in his mind as he looked to Annabelle once more.

“You don’t have to answer this if it’s too personal, but I’m a little curious --”

“Why am I so amazing?” Annabelle quipped, a cheeky and slightly tipsy grin on her face.

Carmine chuckled and cocked his head from side to side. “Well, that, though I just assumed it to be natural.” He took another sip from his glass. “Actually, I was wondering: why the interest in bondage?”

She paused, the rim of her glass just barely touching her lips as her cheeks reddened from more than the alcohol. She lowered her glass and held it by the bowl with both hands, staring down into her wine before giggling quietly. “Well... I’m not really sure. Or well, I am, but it might take my buzzed ass a minute to figure out how to word it.”

“You don’t have to answer right now --”

“No, no, I want to. Part of the answer is kind of funny anyways, so why not?”

She took a drink and set her glass down on the coffee table. “Part of it... it’s strangely fun for me? Like... so when I was a kid, cartoons were still showing damsels-in-distress pretty often. Usually they were the plucky heroine and were all adventurous and brave, and I always looked up to those types as a kid. So whenever I was playing pretend or writing little stories about myself being an adventuring and brave hero, I sort of figured that getting captured on occasion was something that came with the territory.” She giggled again, this one a bit more forced than the last. “I grew out of the whole pretend thing and writing that stuff and forgot about it all for a good chunk of time. I guess I subconsciously still sought out stories like that though, and got a thrill from it, but shrugged it all off. Then I met Clara, and she...” She snorted, covering her mouth as she started to snicker uncontrollably. “She -- she _showed me the ropes_.”

Carmine cracked a wide smile at that, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch and resting his cheek against his knuckles. “Well played.”

Annabelle was still laughing, leaning against the armrest and curling into a slight fetal position as she rocked back. Soon enough she calmed down, wiping a tear from her eye as she sat upright, sitting with her legs criss-crossed. “Anyways, I um. I realized that a lot of that thrill of being tied up and helpless was actually... y’know, arousing and stuff. And then it became more about being aroused not only by that, but by how it requires a lot of trust to have someone do... or I guess like, _act_ so um. Evil? For you? Y’know, to play into the whole fantasy. I dunno. I’m struggling here now.” She seemed to realize the unintentional pun and started into another giggle fit.

Carmine couldn’t help but laugh, too. “Remind me that you’re a lightweight next time.”

“Psh, me? A _lightweight_?” Annabelle waved a hand dismissively. “M’just buzzed, that’s all.” She took another drink, pointing a finger at him with the hand that was around her glass. “What about you?”

He shrugged and looked at his half-empty second glass. “I could probably have another full one before I start to feel anything.”

She snorted and shook her head. “No, no -- though that’s pretty impressive. I meant about the bondage stuff.”

A gentle silence fell between the two of them, and Carmine leaned forward to set his glass down on the coffee table. With his elbows resting on his knees he propped his chin up against one hand, his brow furrowing. “...I suppose it’s a two-way street. The fact that someone can trust me so much, allowing me to do anything to them... they’re not afraid that I’m going to hurt them, or that if I am that it’s not out of any real sort of anger or hatred.” He laughed and leaned back again, his arms draped over the back of the couch as he tilted his head back. “I can vent with it, and show these more primal and... for lack of a better word, _ugly_ sides of myself.” He then let his head roll to one side to give Annabelle a sly grin. “It’s fun for me, too.”

The corner of her lip quirked, her lips parting slightly and showing the grin hiding behind them. “Y’know, I think I’ve reconsidered strangling Clara.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed dreamily as she leaned against his shoulder. “I might even go as far as kiss her, instead.”

He lifted his arm up to drape it over her shoulders, bringing her closer to his side. “Can I watch?”

Annabelle sharply pinched his cheek. “Gross.”

Carmine laughed, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart -- couldn't resist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are winding down, especially the next chapter. I'd say that one's probably the only real like... "filler-y" chapter, since there's not much character or plot development, just tying off a few loose ends. Once chapter 10 is up though, this beginning chunk will be all done!! I'm probably going to be on a bit of a break after that, chillin' and then writing a few chapters to get ahead again.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support and kudos!! And a very special thank you to Amyliana ;u; you've made me a very happy writer --- I woke up to a whole stack of e-mail notices that made my weekend thanks to you <3


	9. The Decrescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire's been started, and now it's gently burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "decrescendo" - in music, a gradual decrease in volume

Though only a few days had passed after their talk, Annabelle felt like she’d known Carmine for far longer. They called each other several times a day: once in the morning, once in the evening, and then every chance they had in between, usually when Annabelle was on a break. They met for lunch almost every day and talked about everything that came to mind: movies, work, music, books, hobbies, but neither had said anything in terms of love yet; it felt too soon, still.

That didn’t stop them, however, from being affectionate. They stole kisses on each other’s cheeks, walked with his arm around her shoulders, and frequently caught each other’s gaze when they stared for just a little too long.

It was obvious they were smitten, but Annabelle had yet to properly thank who was responsible for the extra motivation to see each other. When October 30th came, she decided they needed to pay Clara a visit.

* * *

 

The door chime at  _ Sinful Hideaway _ startled Clara out of her daze. Leaning over the checkout counter to see who had come in, she squealed with delight and soon vaulted over it, pulling Annabelle into a tight embrace. “There’s my favorite girl! Best girl! Cutest, sweetest, squishiest —”

“Clara, I can’t breathe,” Annabelle squeaked, though the smile on her face rivaled that of her friend’s.

“I saw you leave with someone on Saturday.” Clara’s smile turned sly as she playfully nudged Annabelle. “You gonna tell me about it or what?”

Annabelle rolled her eyes and nudged her back. “Don’t play innocent — I know you set me up with him.”

“I have  _ no _ idea what you mean, sweetie.”

“Mmhmm, nice try.” Annabelle inclined her head behind her. “Carmine told me already that you hinted I’d be there.”

Clara looked in the gestured direction to see the culprit waving at her from behind one of the shelves. He flashed her a cheeky smile and said, “Hello again.”

She put a hand on her chest. “You sold me out? How could you?” She poked out her lower lip in a pout. “After I hooked you up, man.”

Carmine shrugged, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Clara shook his fist at him, then returned her attention back to Annabelle with a smug grin. “So, what’s the verdict? Do I get a ‘thank you’ for this apparently harmonious union?”

Annabelle rolled her eyes again and then shot Carmine a look. Unable to continue stifling it, he laughed, holding up his hands in surrender and saying “fine, fine” as he wandered to another part of the store. Once he was out of sight, Annabelle stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Clara’s cheek. “You’re a saint.”

Clara’s smile softened and she hugged her friend close, rubbing her back lightly. “Hey, no prob. If it doesn’t work out and he’s mean to you though, let me know and I’ll kick his ass. Just because I nudged you two together doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some sharply-dressed punk hurt my favorite girl.”

Annabelle squeezed. “I thought Toni was your favorite girl.”

Clara pulled away to hold Annabelle by the shoulders. “Hey, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t  _ have _ Toni.” She placed a soft kiss on her forehead, adding, “And we’re both grateful for it. We love you, you know.” She then brushed a stray lock of hair behind her friend’s ear, still smiling. “You’d better go pester your new squeeze now before I do something that’d be technically cheating.”

Annabelle’s cheeks flushed bright pink, her heart leaping in her chest. “O-oh... um...”

“Annie, Lohaven’s small as fuck.” Clara cocked an eyebrow in a way that said “you’re kidding me right?”, a smirk on her face. “Everyone knows that you, me, and Toni are the gayest people in it.”

Her face flushed further, but she smiled wide, kissing Clara’s cheek again before running off to find Carmine. Clara leaned against the checkout counter, fiddling with her engagement ring and laughing to herself, “Next time, don’t wait so long to say something, dummy.”

* * *

 

Tina Ellison watched her niece move around the diner with grace and energy that would’ve made a princess look like a rube. Annabelle practically floated with every step she took, spinning when she needed to avoid Megan running past her, carrying full trays of food and gliding from one table to the next like an ice skater. She had come to work happy plenty of times, and with it being Halloween, Tina had expected her to be extra excited. But this was almost excessive — something was definitely going on. Be it beyond Tina to pass up an opportunity for gossip.

“Someone’s awfully chipper today.”

Annabelle jumped slightly and whipped her head around to face her aunt, looking at the older woman as if she had popped into existence rather than having been standing at her side trying to get her attention for the past two minutes.

Tina laughed, leaning against the countertop her niece had been wiping down. “Welcome back to Earth, kiddo. How are things up on cloud nine?”

Annabelle’s cheeks flared but she smiled all the same. “Pretty damn nice.”

“I can tell. What’s got you so cheerful, huh?” Tina raised an eyebrow. “Did Clara and Toni split?”

Annabelle’s eyes shot wide open. “No! Oh my god, no — that’s horrible, she’d be so hurt. I’d never — I can’t even  _ imagine _ taking advantage like that —”

Tina stopped her with a gentle pat on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Ann. I shouldn’t have made the joke.” She smiled wide. “I know you’re a sweetheart. Now spill: why are you humming a song that you called ‘manufactured pre-teen pop poison’ two weeks ago.”

Annabelle’s cheeks turned even redder and she focused back on cleaning the counter top. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. C’mon, why are you being so secretive?” When she received no response, Tina watched Annabelle for a moment longer before snatching the cleaning rag from her and holding it up in the air just out of her reach. “You wipe down that countertop any longer and there won’t  _ be _ any of it left!”

On instinct, Annabelle moved to try and take the rag back, but stopped mid-turn when the diner’s door chime went off. She turned away from her aunt to face the door, her heart skipping a beat. With no hesitation she snatched up the coffee pot and hustled to the end of the counter just as Carmine was sitting down.

Tina was left confused for a moment, slowly lowering the cleaning rag. She cocked her head slightly; she’d seen the nicely dressed customer a few times herself, but wasn’t aware that he’d become a regular. Though, knowing Annabelle’s knack for bringing back repeat customers from out of town, she wasn’t all that surprised. She watched as Annabelle poured him his coffee and chatted with him, the way that he smiled at her with his teeth showing, and how her niece would tuck stray hairs back even when there were no strays to be found. She said something and he laughed, a low, rolling sound that Tina might have realized she felt through the tiles under her feet, had a slow smile not been stretching across her face. She set the cleaning rag back in its bucket and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

“Who was that?” Carmine asked once Tina was gone.

Annabelle glanced to her right to see the doors still gently swinging. “Oh, um. That was my aunt Tina.” She faced Carmine once more, grinning. “She’s the one who tried to chase after the lady who left the baby.”

He mouthed an “aha” before sipping at his coffee. “Were you fighting just now?”

She laughed and shook her head. “God, no. She just likes to be super nosy. Apparently you have to have a reason to be happy around here.”

“Oh?” Carmine smiled and folded his forearms on top of the counter. “Did you tell her the reason?”

Annabelle swat his shoulder. “Shush, you. I’m sure she can figure it out. Besides, I’m an adult — I can have my secrets.”

He rubbed the offended spot, still grinning. “Aw, but how am I supposed to learn all about your embarrassing childhood experiences?”

She swat him again. “Are you gonna just sit here and drink coffee again or do you want food today?”

He stifled his laughter, propping his chin atop his knuckles. “I was hoping to ask you on another date.”

Her cheeks flushed and her playful smile softened. “You can call me for that, you know.”

“I do know,” Carmine said, smiling wide. “Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted to ask you in person.”

“Old-fashioned? You? I never would have guessed,” Annabelle laughed and flippantly waved a hand. “I mean, some of your tastes include classical music and fancy suits — I figured you were more of a hipster.”

He made a sound of mock offense, putting a hand over his chest. “Oh,  _ forgive _ me, my Lady! Would you prefer I write you a letter professing my intentions to court you? I’m sure if you gave me a few days, I could even have it sent to you by a carrier on horseback.”

She laughed harder, putting a hand in front of her face to restrain it. “That would be pretty impressive to see.”

“Noted,” Carmine said with a smirk and took a drink. “Jokes aside, I was hoping to make dinner for you tonight.”

Annabelle drummed her fingers on the counter. “Uhm... if you don’t mind doing it at my apartment. I need to be around to hand out candy and stuff.”

“Oh, right — Halloween.” He propped up his elbow and rested his chin in his hand, suggestively lifting one brow. “I guess I’ll bring my horns and pitchfork.”

“You don’t have to dress up,” she quickly said. “I mean, if you want to, I’m not gonna say no, but uh. How comfortable are you wearing a costume in public?” When Carmine’s eyebrow arched further, Annabelle continued, “What I mean is that after the candy stuff is done, I was thinking of going to the double feature.”

He made an “ah” sound, shrugging his shoulders and drinking. “It’s not much of a costume — I think I can swallow my pride long enough. What are we seeing?”

She scratched the back of her head. “I think it’s  _ The Shining _ and  _ Silence of the Lambs _ .”

He cocked an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth quirking. “Pretty tame horror films.”

“Okay, in one there’s a naked old lady with flesh rotting off her bones chillin’ in a bathtub, and the other has a guy making shit from human skin and wearing a lady’s scalp as a wig.” She closed her thumb and fingers together. “So shush your face. Atmospheric and psychological horror are just as valid as the other subgenres, and I will fight you if I must to defend it.”

“All right, all right,” Carmine laughed, putting his hands up defensively. “I concede.”

Annabelle smiled wide, pouring him another cup of coffee. “What did you have in mind for dinner?”

He sighed dramatically, “I guess fava beans are off the table.”

She swat his shoulder a third time.

* * *

 

The turnout at the Lohaven Theater was surprisingly decent. Almost everyone who was waiting outside for tickets was in varying degrees of costume, including Annabelle and Carmine.

The former readjusted her over-sized witch hat. “Are you sure you wanna keep those on in the theater?” she asked, her eyes landing on the intricate dual pair of horns that curled up from his head. “They might get in the way of someone’s view.”

He nodded, a smirk on his face. “You just want to try them on, don’t you?”

“I mean, if you  _ insist  _ —”

As she playfully reached up he took hold of her wrists, laughing and pulling them back down to her sides. “I told you, they’re very delicate. I’d rather keep them on since I’m less likely to drop them or lose them.”

Annabelle pouted, but quickly broke into giggles, sliding her wrists from his grip. “Fiiiiine, I guess we’ll sit in the back row so they don’t get in the waaaay.”

Carmine lifted her witch hat and kissed her forehead. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She lead him through the back row of seats, sitting center and patting the spot next to her enthusiastically. With a quiet laugh he complied to her request, pushing up the armrest to drape his arm over her shoulders and pull her closer. The tip of her hat brushed against his horns, causing him to tense for a fraction of a second, though she hadn’t seemed to notice — her smile was so wide that even when the lights dimmed he could still see it.

_ Silence of the Lambs _ was first. Annabelle whispered in Carmine’s ear, “This is one of my favorites,” with barely contained excitement. “I’ll admit it — it’s arguably not as scary as  _ The Shining _ , though. I wonder why they’re showing it first. Usually they do the scary one first.”

Carmine shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t leaning on. “Maybe it’s for a warm-up.”

“Maybe.” She then giggled quietly, “It’s the appetizer.”

He snickered and lightly shushed her. Truth be told, Carmine couldn’t remember the last time he had been to the theater. He actually hadn’t even seen either of the films that were showing; only read the books. It was a little exciting to see how they would be adapted, but something about being told  _ Silence _ was Annabelle’s favorite made him all the more eager.

Annabelle was hardly able to sit still, displaying enough enthusiasm for the both of them. It had been a few years since someone went with her to the double feature. To not only share the experience with someone who hadn’t been to it before, but also involving two of her favorite movies? She would squeal if they were in more private company.

However, despite her love of the film, she was finding it increasingly difficult to focus. She kept glancing at Carmine from her peripherals, both to watch his reactions and... to simply look at him, she supposed. His yellow eyes seemed to glow, even with the light from the projector casting shadows on his face. Every now and then, during their lunches mostly, she had found herself staring deeply into them. For flashes of time, she would think that she saw something hiding behind his eyes, but the moments would come and go so quickly that she didn’t dwell on them.

Annabelle was having another one of those moments, where occasionally hers and Carmine’s gazes would meet, and she could swear she saw something about them flicker or change, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She shook her head, smiling back and resting her cheek against him. “Just looking at you.”

* * *

 

The drive back to the apartment was comfortably quiet, Annabelle fading in and out of sleep in the passenger seat of Carmine’s Lincoln. When he pulled into the parking lot and gently woke her, she asked with a lazy smile, “Wanna stay the night?”

Carmine leaned over the center console and kissed her. “Absolutely.”

The moment the front door closed behind them Annabelle pulled him in for another kiss, the two of them carefully maneuvering through the apartment without breaking contact more than once. Her witch hat fell to her bedroom floor, followed by his suit jacket and her dress. By the time they made it to the bed and Carmine was straddling her, the only thing either of them had left to take off were his horns. Giggling, Annabelle reached up to push them off, but Carmine quickly caught her wrists in one hand and pinned them down over her head.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Really? You want to leave them on right now?”

“What?” he laughed. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it’d be like to sleep with a demon?”

Annabelle’s cheeks flushed and she turned her head away. “I mean... it’s not a  _ frequent _ thought —”

Carmine laughed again, the sound sending pleasurable tingles down her spine. He used his free hand to push his horns back off his head, a motion that happened so quickly they seemed to vanish. He then lowered his face closer to hers, nuzzling her cheek. “Better?”

She nodded, kissing his cheek. “Maybe another time.”

“Careful,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “I just might hold you to that.”

* * *

 

Morning came all too soon. Annabelle sighed happily all the same, snuggling as close to Carmine as she could. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she nuzzled his chest.

“Your skin feels like a furnace,” she mumbled.

He laughed quietly and pulled her close again. “Nice and toasty, just for you.”

“You’re not secretly a werewolf are you?”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No, though if I recall correctly you said you like cuddling.”

She tilted her head back. “Do you remember  _ everything _ I say?”

“When it makes me laugh.” Carmine kissed her forehead, his eyes barely open more than a fraction of an inch, his irises again practically glowing from the sun shining in. The two of them lay there for a few minutes longer, enjoying the warmth and protection of the bedsheets and each other’s arms.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” he asked.

Annabelle smiled and nodded. “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're winding down, and there's one chapter left -- what could possibly happen? ;3
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updates -- life got crazy for a minute and then this FOSTA/SESTA stuff gave me a friggin heart attack and I had to spend some time backing up a bunch of writing.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the continued readership, and your patience ;3; you folks are the best.


	10. The Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update~! Enjoy :3

The kitchen was filled with a vast mixture of aromas. Annabelle watched Carmine with fascination as he sautéed mushrooms and spinach, while a chicken was roasting in the oven behind him. On the back two spaces of the stove there was a pot of fettuccine boiling and a saucepan of alfredo sauce; nothing terribly fancy, but watching Carmine cook was quickly becoming one of Annabelle’s favorite things to do.

That, and listening to him sing. Not fabulous by any means — definitely no Ella Fitzgerald, as that was the vinyl he had playing in the room over — but his voice had a timbre to it that made it sound like maybe he had vocal training before, though it had been years since he properly used any of it. His range was low enough that sometimes, when Annabelle would hug him from behind, his body would vibrate from the tone. At one point, when Carmine had deemed it safe enough that the vegetables wouldn’t burn, he spun around to take her by the hand and waist, dancing with her around the kitchen and singing:

“ _In the roaring traffic’s boom; In the silence of my lonely room; I think of you; Night and day~!_ ”

Annabelle giggled, trying not to trip over Carmine’s feet. “It’s like you walked right out of a gentleman’s handbook or something. Is there anything classy that you _can’t_ do?”

Carmine smiled and kissed her softly. “Play an instrument. Talk about wine. Eat caviar — I’m actually allergic to seafood, though, so that might have something to do with it.”

“That stinks — I love sushi,” Annabelle then stuck out her tongue and lifted her eyebrows suggestively. “All kinds.”

Carmine groaned dramatically and stopped dancing, turning back to his cooking. “You and your puns. Is this the fate I’ve really sealed for myself? Enduring them for an eternity?”

Annabelle laughed, winding her arms around her waist and resting her cheek against his back. “Aw, poor Carmine! He chose to date a lady who is nothing but bad jokes and terrible dancing skills. How _ever_ will he compare to such scathing wit! How can he not _bear_ to outshine her at higher-brow activities!”

He looked over his shoulder at her, furrowing his brow. “You make it sound like I’m a show-off.”

“Mmmm you kind of are, sweetheart.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It’s endearing, though. It shows lots of confidence. I like that.”

He laughed, checking on the pasta before turning off the heat. “Sadly, you’ll need to let go of me for a minute — I have to drain this.”

It was Annabelle’s turn to groan dramatically, but she let go, following behind him to the sink. The second the hot water was drained she latched onto him again, giggling at his exaggerated sigh.

“I’m about to order you to sit at the table like a good girl,” Carmine said, his voice low. He couldn’t help the grin at feeling her responding shiver, but it only lasted a moment; his breath hitched as Annabelle’s hands slipped down to his hips, her thumbs slipping beneath the waistband of his slacks.

“And miss out on spending time with you?” she whispered in his ear. “I think I’ll pass.”

Carmine breathed “fuck” as he set the pasta back down on the stove, his cheeks and neck flushing. “Damn, woman.”

“What?” Annabelle gave him an innocent smile. “If you’re gonna imply that I’m not a good girl, I’m gonna be hard pressed to behave.”

He looked at her from his peripherals, a sly grin on his face. “Keep it up. I’ll be happy to show you what happens to the naughty ones.”

She shivered again, slowly releasing him. “I think I wanna see how well you wine and dine me, first.”

He scoffed, mixing together the pasta, sauce, and vegetables. “Are you saying I didn’t do that well enough before the movies yesterday?”

“No, no, your cooking last night was absolutely amazing,” Annabelle leaned against the counter. “I’m just saying that it better be as good or better, if you want to go to... certain lengths tonight.”

“Oh, so you’re bribing me.”

“Possibly.”

Carmine rolled his eyes before leaning over and kissing her sweetly. “I won’t push you to where you don’t want to go, whether you enjoy dinner tonight or not.”

Annabelle kissed him in return just as he was stepping back to the stove. As she continued to watch him work, she felt her chest warm and her stomach do backflips. Something about every move he made seemed more fluid than the last, completely at ease as he handled hot pans and trays, singing with Ella Fitzgerald and giving Annabelle a dazzling smile that made her heart skip several beats. And the promise he made to her, that he wouldn’t go far unless she wanted him to, that filled her with an indescribable joy.

“Hey, Carmine.”

He looked up from his cooking. “Hm?”

“What do you think about going on a road trip sometime?”

He paused a moment, before smiling. “Annabelle, if you asked me to take you to the ends of the earth, I would happily do it with you.”

Annabelle laughed, “So poetic. I was just thinking through the country, Don Juan.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” Carmine said. “If a road trip across the states is what you’d like, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Her smile turned sheepish as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Annabelle felt like it was safe to admit it to herself: she was falling in love with Carmine.

* * *

 

The black leather loveseat reflected the warm light of the fireplace, giving the room an illusion of being made from smoldering coals. Annabelle and Carmine sat on opposite ends of the couch, a half-empty bottle of wine and two glasses sitting atop the coffee table in front of them. Annabelle’s heels sat abandoned on the floor, while Carmine had shucked off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch arm.

Annabelle tipped back her wine glass. “Thank you, again, for dinner. And dessert.”

Carmine smiled. “You’re welcome, darling. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I’ve uh...” she cleared her throat and scratched the back of her head, looking away. “I’ve done plenty of that since I’ve been with you.”

“Forgive me if this is too candid, or creepy, even but...” He chuckled quietly, setting his own glass down and propping his cheek up against his knuckles. “I’ve been taken with you since I learned your name.”

She hiccuped and giggled, shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised? You practically kissed my hand when I finally learned yours.”

He had the decency to blush. He placed his free hand on her thigh and leaned forward. “It was very hard not to kiss you on the lips.”

She giggled again, snorting a bit. “See _that_ was a little creepy. I’ll let it slide though — I’m too tipsy to care.”

“I’m a gentleman — I can’t just go kissing women as I please.” Carmine paused, then said, “Well, I suppose I _could_ , technically, though you’d be hard-pressed to find a better lawyer than me to prove me innocent.”

Annabelle giggle-snorted again, her hand falling on top of his. “That’s super fucked up.”

“Never said I would do it. Unlike most men, I know what the word ‘no’ means.”

She smiled at that, squeezing his hand lightly. “That’s good. I mean, I’m not gonna give you an award for it or anything because that’s just common decency, but that’s still good.”

Carmine smiled in kind, turning his hand over to hold hers. For a moment, they did nothing but sit there, looking at each other. Annabelle then scooted herself closer to him, nestling against his torso and circling her arms around his waist. Carmine let his arm rest around her shoulders, the both of them redirecting their gazes toward the fireplace.

“So,” Annabelle broke the comfortable silence, “confession time: I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”

Carmine rested his cheek atop her head. “I feel the same way.”

After a moment, she poked his rib. “Your turn — confession time!”

He laughed, “Really? Is this Truth or Dare without the daring bit or something?”

She stuck out her tongue. “Come on, if our relationship goes anywhere, I don’t want us to be afraid to share our secrets with each other. You found out my biggest one, after all.”

“Fair point.” He rubbed her shoulder, thinking. “Before last night, I had never seen either of those movies.”

“No way.”

He nodded. “I actually can’t remember the last time I went to an actual movie theater. Probably since _Casablanca_ was released.”

Annabelle’s brow furrowed. That seemed odd; that film was almost eighty years old.

“Your turn, sweetheart,” Carmine said, snapping Annabelle from her thoughts.

“I wish I could have a cat.” She was still trying to wrap her head around what he said, or rather how he had said it, as if he was there to see _Casablanca_ in 1942.

“Aw, cute. Why can’t you?”

“I’m allergic.” Annabelle tipped her head back to look at him. “What do you mean the last time you went to the movies was when _Casablanca_ came out?”

Carmine quirked an eyebrow at her, before letting out a low, rumbling laugh. “Is that what I said?” When she nodded, he sighed, “Might as well consider this my next confession. I’m ah... not exactly thirty-two years old.”

Annabelle frowned. “What?”

“I’m six-hundred-and-thirty-two.”

She burst into giggles. “Come on, Carmine. Be serious!”

He smiled. “I am. I’m seriously six-hundred-and-thirty-two. Give or take a few years.”

“Yeah? And how’d you manage that?”

Carmine leaned in close to Annabelle’s ear and whispered, “I’m a demon.”

She went into another giggling fit, pushing him back. “Yeah, sure. And I’m the last unicorn.”

His smile widened. “Trust me, you are far more beautiful and not even close in terms of vanity. You’re one-hundred-percent human.”

“And you’re not?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not a chance,” Annabelle said, finally calming down enough to say more than a few words. “For someone who lies for a living, that’s not a terribly convincing one.”

Carmine cocked his head. “You want me to convince you?”

She snorted, her grin now skeptical as she swept an arm out in front of her. “Be my guest.”

With a quick kiss to her cheek, he stood from the loveseat, and snapped his fingers.

The fireplace roared, the flames nearly creeping out into the living room as the skin at the tips of his fingers turned red, the color spreading down to his palms as his hands morphed into almost talon-like appendages. The crimson hue crept up his neck and to his face, his ears elongating to sharp points as his sclerae turned an inky black. Horns sprouted from his scalp, taking on the same shape as the ones he had claimed were only a costume the night before, and a pointed tail slithered out from behind his back.

The fire died down and Carmine gave Annabelle a considerably toothier grin, his canines now daggers in his mouth.

“ **Surprise.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF ACT 1
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, business time: this is the last fully-written chapter I have for this story. I'm gonna go on a break for a little while so I can get a few chapters of Act 2 lined up. I don't know for sure when things will return, but I'll do my best to make sure it's not too terribly long. At least, no longer than like a break between TV show seasons n///n In the meantime, if you have any questions for me about where the story is going, the characters, or even general stuff about me, feel free to message me on tumblr (where I'm also strawberriemars)! I'd love to hear from you :3
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO much for reading. Every comment and kudos gives me the drive to keep going with this story, and with writing in general. I don't know that I'll ever be able to properly express my gratitude to you folks ;3;


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